


Erase Your Mind (But You Can't Erase Your Heart)

by passenger



Category: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), One Direction
Genre: Also don't want to give away much, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Break Up, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I'll add more as deemed fit, Louis works with the Rovers, M/M, Married Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Memories, Niall lightens the mood, Past Relationship(s), Repressed Memories, Sad Harry, Sad Louis, Someone help me my tags suck ass, Time jumps in the writing, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Work In Progress, You get used to it, harry works in a bakery, hold your horses, i'm terrible with tags, major feels, smut will happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:24:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3118382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passenger/pseuds/passenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dear Mr. and Mr. Payne-Malik,<br/>Louis Tomlinson has had Harry Styles erased from his memory. Please never mention their relationship to him again.<br/>Thank you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erase Your Mind (But You Can't Erase Your Heart)

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) I do not own One Direction (Technically, they own me - spiritually)  
> 2.) This is a work of fiction based upon my favorite movie and my favorite people  
> 3.) I'm not a professional, my writing is amateur. I just needed this plot in my life and thought I could create it myself.
> 
> Before you read: This is confusing at the start. It's the present day first, when in "present day" mode, time passes like normal, ya feel? Then with the help of my handy dandy +++'s it switches to a past memory. The memories time jump. I do my best to let you know the time frame, but yeah. So, I guess this is a hard first chapter, but it gets easier (or so beta people tell me).

He hates Valentine’s Day. There was a time when it was a favorite holiday of his, he supposes, back in the days of a hopeless romantic. Where’d that get him? Here, curls greasy and purple bruises under his eyes, waiting in a near empty metro station for his way to work. It’s never this empty. It’s never this _cold_. He doesn’t want to go to work. He kind of wants to go back to his apartment, fight his way over ice patches on the sidewalk, and turn the heater all the way up. Harry would really love to strip down and out of his stretched skinny jeans and the last clean shirt he could find this morning, just to mold into his springy mattress and meld into his duvet. _Right in the middle of it_ , he thinks pleasantly, seeing as he no longer has to share. Yeah, he really hates Valentine’s Day.

 

He hates his job, too. Baking just doesn’t warm him up like it used to. Nothing really seems to warm Harry up anymore. It’s between all this thinking and all this shivering that he hears the metro approaching swiftly. In that moment, Harry feels his adrenaline pumping and thinks he’d rather not bake hundreds of sweets for the happy couples to flaunt in front of his loneliness. Not today. So, he runs.

 

+++

 

                The wind picks up and the sky is dusty. It dampens the mood and Harry thinks how Liam must be at wit’s end over it.

               

                “Fuck _me_ ,” Harry shrieks, wincing as a few flecks of sand catch in his eye. He nearly topples over with one hand rubbing his eye raw, one foot sinking into the cool beach, and one box of cupcakes tucked between an arm and his ribs.

 

                “Oops,” a voice chuckles, sort of startling Harry due to his predicament, and he peeks through his able eye, “Let me help you, mate,” and suddenly there are gentle fingers plucking annoying bits of sand from Harry’s eyelash.

 

                “Hi,” he breathes, face flushing, as soon as he gains sight, “I mean, uh, thanks.”

 

                “No worries. The beach this close to winter is a poor choice of venue, anyway, if you ask me,” his savior returns with a blinding smile. _Savior_ , Harry mentally kicks himself, _it was a piece of sand_ , _you sod_.

 

                “Yeah,” he lets out in an airy chuckle. Then they’re off in separate directions.

 

                Of course, as soon as Harry finds Liam in the beach house he asks about the lad.

 

                “You said blue eyes? That’s Louis,” Liam mumbles through it though, too distracted with setting the table and arranging the cupcakes Harry gifted on a plate, “Does this look alright, H?”

 

                “What’s his deal, though,” he ignores the question, “like, how d’you know him? Does he always poke strangers in the eye with his grimy claws?” Which, Harry’s thankful, he is, but Louis didn’t even introduce himself.

 

                “Actually, yes,” Liam laughs lightly and it annoys Harry a bit so he hops off the marble countertop and starts off towards the back porch, “H, no! I need your help, Zayn’ll be here any minute now!”

 

                “Piss off, you know you won’t let me touch anything anyway,” Harry smiles, “Li, he’s going to say yes whether you place the veggies by the wine or by the stuffed chicken. Don’t sweat it, man.”

 

                “Thanks, Harry,” and he can see the weight lift from Liam’s shoulders.

 

                It’s later, after the commotion of dinner and everyone gathered around the bonfire that might be a bit too close to the water, when Harry sees him. Well, of course, Harry had seen him before then. They sat across the table from each other during dinner and Harry watched as Louis set up the bon fire. But now, with the sun nearly gone and the fire crackling, Harry is _seeing_ Louis. He’s magnificent, really. Louis has this demeanor and attitude that just draws people in. Liam’s arm is draped around Zayn’s shoulders like it belongs there and they’re chatting with Louis. They’re so invested in whatever Louis’ saying and Harry’s invested in just watching Louis talk.

 

                “Go on,” Niall nudges his arm, knocking him out of his trance, “been a good few months since you and Nick, so, get your rocks off.”

 

                “You’re a sick male with a one track mind,” Harry glares at him, but it’s only met with Niall waggling his stupid eyebrows, “I don’t want to _shag_ anyone, let alone _him_. I’m appalled you’d even suggest that, like, what,” It’s hopeless. Niall’s eyebrows are still dancing so Harry stomps off to sit on one of the empty blankets in the sand.

 

                “Mind if I sit?”

 

                He looks up and it’s Louis, holding two bottled beers and an extra blanket, “’course, yeah.”

 

                “Brought you a drink, too,” Louis says as he sits a reasonable distance besides Harry, “and an extra blanket case it gets even chillier, but like, if you need it.”

 

                “That’s nice, yeah, ‘m good right now. Like, blanket-wise.”

 

                “Attention, party people,” Liam interrupts any further conversation between them, well, not intentionally they were here because of him, so, “Gather ‘round, will you?”

 

                “Y’nervous? For Liam, I mean,” Louis whispers.

 

                “Not really,” he whispers back, sneaking a glance at Louis while he’s at it, “I mean, they love each other. There’s no doubt Zayn’s gonna say yes.”

 

                “I’d say no.”

 

                “Good thing, you’re not being asked, I suppose,” Harry laughs lowly.

 

                “I mean, like, I’m not into,” Louis pauses, “relationships.”

 

                “Okay,” Harry says in a hushed breath. He’s not sure what else to say and he guesses Louis doesn’t either because they both fall pretty silent. Soon enough, everyone is gathered to watch Liam with a tall fire burning behind him. At the beginning of the day, Harry couldn’t see how a cold, grey beach would be romantic. Now, with thirteen of Liam and Zayn’s closest friends, a soft orange glow in the background, and the distant sound of minute waves, it was practically perfect.

 

                “I want to thank the lot of you for being here today,” Liam started, “It was rather dreary earlier, but it worked in the end because I can’t imagine any other time or way to do this. Zayn, would you,” he motioned for Zayn to come forward from the crowd. Which he did, hesitantly as he was in the blue of what was to come.

 

                “It’s charming,” Harry whispers with a smile as Liam takes a knee in the sand.

 

                “It’s ownership,” Louis whispers back promptly as Zayn’s eyes sparkle vividly, “but I suppose if I was into devotion and commitment, this would be quite charming.”

  
+++  
  


It’s been a month since he’s gone running like this. It’s freeing and he should make it into a habit. By the time he finally makes it home from the metro station, he’s out of breath. Harry leans against his frozen mailbox, staring at his small and somber home. There are patches of snow and ice littering his lawn and paint chipping from the front door. Since he’s there, Harry checks his mailbox before trudging inside.

 

There’s a large manila envelope that catches Harry’s attention amongst the few bills. It reads in stark black ink upon a white sticker: **Winston Erasers**. What really catches his attention is that it’s not addressed to him. It’s originally addressed to: Liam  & Zayn Payne-Malik. He frowned, opening the envelope up, and he finds a white paper scribbled upon in what can only be Liam’s handwriting.

 

“Harry,” it reads, “first of all, answer our calls and texts once in a while, you twat. Second off, we’re sending this to you because it’s really unfair for you to be left in the dark. Please, don’t do anything you’ll regret. We love you, H.”

 

Curiosity blazing now, Harry reached into the envelope to find a tan business card. One side restating the business name he found on the package and the opposite: _Dear Mr. and Mr. Payne-Malik_ , _Louis Tomlinson has had Harry Styles erased from his memory_. _Please never mention their relationship to him again_. _Thank you_.

 

+++

 

                As expected, Zayn and Liam rushed off to have a newly engaged shag and left everyone to fend for themselves. It was about two hours until midnight so Harry thought he’d head out. He set off to say his goodbyes to everyone and on his way to his car a small voice called out to him, “Harry, could I, erm, get a ride? ‘s just I don’t want to take the metro and I don’t really have a car, um,” and how could Harry say no?

 

                “Thanks for the ride home,” Louis says, just as Harry pulls up to the curb in front of a cozy looking flat, “Hopefully, one day, I won’t have to take the train everywhere,” he chuckled and it kind of warmed Harry’s cheeks.

 

                “No problem,” Harry smiled, “I think if I would’ve known you’d sing Coldplay the entire way here, it’d be a different story, but,” Louis cut him off with a gasp and a slap on the arm.

 

                “That’s shit and you know it,” Louis babbled over both of their laughter, “you needed that musical education, _Harold_.”

 

                After a beat, it got quiet besides the crackle of the streetlamps and the soft breeze outside.

 

                “You ca-“

 

                “I shoul-“

 

                They chuckled lightly and Harry nodded for Louis to go first, “You can, um, come in. Have some tea, before you start your trek home, if you want.”

 

                “I’d love to,” he said without a second thought.

 

                Four cups of tea and an entire bag of chocolate crisps later, Harry looked at the time, “Shit,” he frowned, “It’s three in the morning.”

 

                Louis laughed for some reason but whatever the reason, it made Harry laugh too, “The missus going to get jealous?”

 

                “She’ll have m’head, seeing me come in at this time of the night,” Harry rolled his eyes, indulging Louis.

 

                “Call me,” Louis said as they settled.

 

                “Okay.”

 

                “When are you going to call me?”

 

                “Tomorrow,” Harry blushed as if tomorrow were too soon to call Louis.

 

                “Right as you get home,” Louis replied, a blush just as pink as Harry’s on his cheeks, “Y’know, just to make sure the phones are working.”

 

                “Okay,” and he did. He called Louis as soon as he got home. They didn’t talk though, just listened to each other breathing softly as they fell asleep.

 

                The next morning when he woke up, the call was ended. He’s not sure when that happened. He really isn’t sure if the previous day had even happened. He is sure that he’s terribly gone for Louis. Why do I fall in love with every boy that shows me the least bit of affection, Harry curses himself?

  
+++

 

“Sir, do you have an appointment,” a lady with bleach blonde hair asks.

 

“I, um, no,” Harry frowns, she must be able to tell he’s not in a right state of mind. His eyes are red rimmed, nose pink, and brows furrowed, “I found this,” he holds up the business card, now slightly bent, “and, I just, it’s, well, impossible.”

 

“Sir, I can’t help you without an appointment. This is a busy time of year, you’d imagine. Unhappy couples on Valentine’s Day and all, I can set you up for next Tuesd-“

 

“Who is Winston,” he cut her off, which is unlike Harry, but he couldn’t stand her attempt at charm.

 

“Why, he is the marvelous man who invented our erasing process,” the woman- Lou- Harry can see on her nameplate. _Lou_ , Harry sighs and something builds in him. He looks around seeing a few people starting to stare at his commotion.

 

“Okay,” Harry licks his lip, “I’ll, uh, I’ll go,” he nods, turning back towards the door he rushed in from. When he hears Lou’s nails go back to their rhythmic typing on her keyboard, he makes a run for it- past her desk and down the hall. Despite her yells for him to stop and for help, he keeps going until he finds a door marked with Ben Winston.

 

“How’d you get in here,” an older man in a white coat jumps in his seat as Harry bursts into the room.

 

“I ran in,” he answers simply before taking a seat in front of the desk and holding the business card out, “um, this is impossible, right? You can’t erase someone’s mind.”

 

“I _can_ ,” Ben Winston, gives an amused grin, “You weren’t supposed to get a hold of that card, Mr. Styles.”

 

“Why would he do that,” Harry frowned, speaking softly and mostly to himself, “He couldn’t just fucking get over it like a normal person. He had to give himself fucking _brain damage_.”

 

“It’s a safe form of brain damage, if that helps any,” it doesn’t, and Harry clearly portrays that in the glare he sends him, “Mr. Tomlinson was quite a mess when he came to us, know that, but this was a decision he took time to make. I’m terribly sorry, Harry, but to some people this is the only option.”

 

Harry couldn’t cry. He couldn’t yell. He couldn’t feel anything. After what seemed like too long, Harry looked up with lifeless eyes, “Erase him from my memory.”

 

This is what Liam and Zayn meant when they said ‘ _don’t do something you’ll regret_ ’. He won’t regret this. He won’t. The doctor, or at least Harry hopes he’s a doctor – Winston, instructed him gather anything of Louis’ left in his home and to retrieve all of the things that could remind him of their relationship.

 

Walking into his house, he realizes just how much of Louis still lingers in his life. Fourteen months’ worth of memories, scattered across a messy home. It’s been nearly two months since the breakup and Harry’s house practically reeked of Louis. With the amount of clothes Louis left littered in every room, one would think he still lived with Harry.

 

He sighed, “Okay,” twisting the silver band around his middle finger until it came loose, “time to go, Lou,” he threw the ring into his hefty garbage bag.

 

+++

 

                “In lieu of one miraculous year together,” Louis said dramatically – which everything Louis did was dramatic, “for you,” he pulled out a small box wrapped in a lavender paper, “the wrapping is shit, I know, sue me for trying.”

 

                Harry couldn’t help but laugh his disgusting walrus laugh, “Thank you,” he smiled, earnestly and it made Louis’ smile back, obviously proud with himself.

 

                “Open it, Haz.”

 

                With a roll of his eyes, Harry took the small box. He shook it by his ear just for show, giggling at how anxious Louis had become since Harry’s fingertips came in contact with his gift. It was near impossible to get past the wrapping as a majority of it was tape, but once he tore it off, Harry held an intimate black velvet box.

 

                He looked up with wide eyes, “Louis,” he breathed, heart beating too fast to form his full thought. He doesn’t even think a full thought. It’s just a conveyor of _Louis_ , _Louis_ , _Louis_ in his mind.

 

                “It’s only been a year, yes,” Louis spoke softly and behind fingertips worrying his bottom lip, “but Harry, in this year I’ve learned, loved, and experienced so much. I never thought I’d be in a committed relationship, or embracing romance and intimacy, or accepting, well, love. Harry, you showed me a whole side to me that I locked away years before I could understand it. I’d been so scared to open up because of my father and my mum’s heartbreak. I didn’t let myself believe in love because I was so scared to get hurt. Then, I met you that day at the beach house. _God_ , you were so embarrassing, nearly falling apart from a grain of sand,” Louis paused, chuckling, and Harry did too but it was choked and wet from his steady flow of tears, “I just wanted to help you out. So, I went over – one glance into those stupidly green eyes, Harry, I’d never been more _terrified_ in my life.”

 

                Either the earth was shaking or Harry was, but it stopped as soon as Louis touched Harry’s hand. The fire crackled across from them, the centerpiece of candles flickered on the coffee table, their dirty dishes still placed before them – It was charming. Despite Harry’s lanky legs starting to cramp from being bent up under him for so long, the stain on the carpet beneath them because Harry just had to try the Lady and the Tramp with their overcooked spaghetti noodles, and the muted episode of Friends still playing in the background – it was unbelievably charming. Louis started to raise onto one knee, opening the pretty black box that seemed to feel heavier since Louis started speaking. Harry’s breath caught in his lungs as he looked to the simple ring band shining before him.

 

                “Harold-“

 

                “ _Louis_ ,” Harry scolded with an airy laugh.

 

                “ _Harry_ ,” Louis smiled and it looked just about as face splitting as Harry’s smile felt, “will you marry me?”

 

                Harry nearly shrieked, heart too big in his chest, “Yes, of course,” he mumbled against Louis’ lips.

 

                Later that night, Louis tried to call Harry his _Future Mr. Tomlinson_ , but it was too much of a mouthful when Harry had a mouthful of Louis and his cold ring pressed against the most secretive parts of Louis’ body.

 

+++

 

The black bag was nearly full and Harry hadn’t made it past the den. There are mementos that are too difficult to throw out. Not because he doesn’t want them to go – he does, he doesn’t regret this – but because they were ingrained in the house or the furniture.

 

There was a J-shaped scratch on the coffee table from when Louis just couldn’t wait to have Harry. They’d been apart for three days and both felt like lust-sick teenagers. As soon as Louis had returned from a footie trip, he had Harry on the coffee table, snogging the hello from his lips. The button from Harry’s back pocket, carved into the wood.

 

There was a burn on the couch’s arm from when they had fought over the smoking. His asthma had been acting up and Louis knew the cigarette smoke left an uneasy tickle in Harry’s lungs. He’d been stressed from the contracts coming in through the Rover’s and the help his mother needed around the house and well, Harry’d tried to make it easier on Louis by letting him smoke on the back porch. Then Louis became lazy, leaving the door open while he smoked or smoking inside while Harry was out.

 

There was a dent in the wall - they had tried to hide it with the bookshelf - from when they fought over Louis’ partying. It was a stupid fight. Harry’ll admit it was his fault. He wanted to celebrate a Rover win and Harry had a run in with Nick at Tesco’s earlier that day. He just wasn’t in a party mood after that but Louis went. He came back, marijuana and beer on his breath and in the fibers of his shirt. It was everything Harry wanted to forget and everything Harry wanted Louis to give up.

 

Then there was the triangular shaped spaghetti sauce stain in the carpet.

 

“I will not regret this,” Harry whispered, placing the bag on the floor. He rushed to his room, pushing past piles of laundry. After digging around under his bed, Harry found his Polaroid camera.

 

“I will _not_ regret this,” He said louder, more confidently as he snapped a picture of each Louis momentum that can’t be stuffed into a trash bag.

 

+++

 

                There’s this glow that Louis gives off when he’s at his happiest. It doesn’t happen nearly often enough. So, when Harry found his mum’s old Polaroid, he was destined to snap a picture of Louis in radiance. Maybe he’ll create an art gala and fill in with photographs of Louis, he smiles at the thought.

 

                “ _Careful_ ,” Louis chuckles, finally looking away from the park’s playground to catch Harry admiring him, “you’ll make someone fall in love with you, smiling about like that.”

 

                “Will I?”

 

                “Well, you already did,” Louis looked back to his sisters playing with a group of other kids, “wanker.”

 

                Louis Tomlinson fell in love with Harry Styles in the span of three months. Louis Tomlinson who didn’t believe in love or relationships. Harry felt his heart swell.

 

                Harry nudged Louis’ knee with his, reflecting the playful smile he was now showing, “Was thinking about how handsome and lovely you are,” he held the camera up and leaned back to get a proper angle, “wanna show the world.”

 

                “Bollocks,” Louis was fighting a giggle (“they aren’t giggles – they’re manly snickers”) and there it was. The visible aura of pure happiness Louis only let come out at the right time.

 

                Harry took the picture, “Louis in Radiance,” he laughed as he shook the picture out, “That’s what I’ll call this one, yeah?”

 

                As soon as the picture developed, he handed it to Louis. He blushed looking at the picture of himself (to which Harry snapped another photo) and maybe Louis doesn’t realize just how special he is.

 

+++

 

“That’s an awful bunch of stuff,” Ben’s eyebrows furrowed just the slightest, “no matter, we’ll take care of it. We’ve definitely seen worse.”

  
  
Somehow, Harry doesn’t believe that but he gives an awkward grin as he hands off five trash bags , threatening to burst, to two men in lab coats. It makes them look professional, but he doubts this operation is even legal.

 

“So,” Harry takes a seat across from Ben in the same office he’d burst into just the day before, “the erasing will take place in your apartment. It assures you and us that you’ll have no memory that we even exist. You’ll wake up in your own bed with what will feel like the hangover of the century,” he went on explaining the process and the aftermath and his success stories. It was too much to comprehend and Harry really just wanted to get it over with.

 

On his way out of the office, Harry noticed the reception room a lot more crowded than his first time being there. Lou gave him a small smile as he passed her desk and promptly went back to scheduling in the line of people waiting. He chuckles lowly and to himself, _what a Valentine’s Day yesterday_. It’s funny, just a night before Harry never thought erasing anything from someone’s memory was possible let alone a person’s entire _existence_. It’s not that funny. It’s quite sad. This was a building full of such devastation, heartbreak, and hurt that they felt no other place to turn other than _forgetting_. He was one of those people.

 

Night fell quickly. Harry was quite nervous (not _regretful_ \- nervous) about the ordeal. Two men were about to haul a machine into his home and invade his most inner thoughts to dissect and remove Louis from his memory. It all sounded a bit gory. Nevertheless, he wanted this. He supposes, he _needs_ this. Promptly, at eight o'clock, there was a buzz from his doorbell.

 

By a quarter to nine, the surgery station (his bed with a bunch of cords and a strange metal helmet loosely strewn over it) was prepared, “You’re comfortable? Most people light a few candles, set the mood,” one man - Tom, he thinks - says before being slapped on the arm by the other - Ollie.

  
  
“Quite the laugh, he is,” Ollie rolls his eyes and it does help Harry ease up, “but we do want you to be comfortable. So, if candles are what you need-”

  
  
“I’m fine,” Harry bites back a laugh, “Just kind of want to get this done,” he shrugs.

 

“Understandable,” Tom nods, “Let’s get you all hooked up then.”

  
  
Before he even processes it, Harry’s sitting atop his bed with a heavy helmet on, wires connected to him which get connected to monitors. Ollie brings a glass of water to him and he takes it with a muttered ‘ _thanks_ ’.

  
  
“Hope you don’t mind, we had to dissolve some Class-A sleeping pills in your water to help you through the night,” Ollie remarks after Harry had swallowed his last gulp.

 

“That’s _cheating_ ,” he frowns, laying back as the drowsiness starts to take over. By cheating, he means some sort of illegal - drugging someone without permission. Although, it probably was permitted. Harry makes a mental note to thoroughly read the paperwork and contracts he signs from now on. Well, he probably won’t even remember that as this night will be gone in the morning. _Damn_ , he pauses, _that’s freaky_.

 

“Just a reminder, Harry, don’t fight it. It’s going to get confusing in your head, but just let it go,” Tom gives his shoulder a squeeze, “ _Have fun_ ,” he says in a light tone.

  
  
The scene gets fuzzy but eventually Harry lets himself drift.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you.  
> Feedback is always, always appreciated.  
> I plan to update weekly, maybe sooner if I really don't have anything to do (which is like all the time, so)
> 
> If you have questions, leave a comment or send me a postcard or ask me on tumblr (tomlinpal) xxxx


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